Read Online Florida Heatwave by Michael Lister - Free Book Online Page B

“Six towers with twenty eight floors and two penthouses.” He pretended to do some rough calculations in his head and then said, “Five hundred and sixty units with twelve premiums that take an entire floor.”
    “What will those go for?”
    “Two million apiece to start.”
    Golden nodded and then stepped to the bay window to stare out at the Atlantic. Randy gave him some space and remained at the poster display. Dale looked torn about whom to crowd. He stayed at the posters.
    Randy winked at his partner. He had to admit he was a little nervous too. This businessman from New York, the center of all smart people according to them, seemed to have taken his bait and he had a lot of room to negotiate. He could throw in a condo since they’d never even be built. He almost chuckled when he thought how he often heard New Yorkers refer to South Florida like it was a foreign country. They called it an “emerging market.” Did they not expect that some of the indigenous people of this emerging market wouldn’t be smart enough to attract capitol on such a far-fetched scheme? One thing Randy knew for sure was that if you offered to make someone rich, or at least richer, greed clouded judgment, experience, and ethics. He’d seen it over and over.
    Now Gerald Golden of Manhattan turned and listened to the phones still ringing off the hook. He smiled and said, “Would I be the first investor?”
    This was a hard question. Say he was and he might get worried about why no one was risking money yet. Say he wasn’t and he might not like being behind the curve. Randy risked the more conservative approach. “We already have several major investors but there is room for several more.”
    Golden nodded and said, “I’m in.”
    Randy let out his breath and stepped across the room to shake hands. Dale trailed like he was on a tether.
    Golden said, “Let me do some juggling and move some cash, then I’ll have a million transferred into your business account after we sign the contract.”
    “I have a standard contract if you’d like to see it.”
    “My lawyer has to look it over.”
    Randy froze. A fucking lawyer. He might see a chance to make points and gouge Golden at the same time by doing some independent research and recommending against the investment. Randy tried to think of something. Some high-pressure tactic to move it along when Golden offered, “He just looks at the contract—he has no sense for business. Should only take a day or two. By Friday we can be partners.”
    Randy considered this as he smiled, hiding his fear. Then he noticed that all at once the phones stopped ringing. He checked his watch absently. Two thirty. Shit, he should’ve sprung an extra thirty bucks to make the calls keep coming. His mind started to race as he considered what Golden had said, how close to a deal they were, the phone issue, and fucking Dale breathing on his neck. Fuck!
    He took a breath, cleared his head, elbowed Dale and said, “No problem, Mr. Golden, whatever you want. We have others coming in during the week so we’re in good shape.” It was a ground ball. Just something for the old guy to think about. If he didn’t act, someone might beat him to this easy money.
    Golden nodded and said, “Good, we’ll get this show on the road.” He turned toward the door.
    Randy followed, then stepped ahead to help him ease outside. He needed a few minutes to recharge and gather his wits. These types of sales were hard. Cars were easy. At least you had a product. This was harder when the product was just dreams of wealth.
    They paused at the door and shook hands with Dale right between them. They both looked at the chubby, sweaty, smelly stockbroker.
    Randy turned the knob and opened the door, saying, “This was a real pleasure, Mr. Golden.” Then he froze as he saw three men in casual clothes standing directly in front of the door in the hallway.
    Randy said, “Can I help you?”
    The tallest one in the front calmly held out his